


The Curious Miss Aren

by A_Midwinter_Night_Dream86



Series: Jolinar Telvanni and the God of Mischief [4]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Gen, Loki plots, Skyrim Civil War, We Continue To Worry Over Runty Frost Giants, Where in the world is the Dragonborn?, magic talk, two sides of the same coin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 12:20:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18660325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Midwinter_Night_Dream86/pseuds/A_Midwinter_Night_Dream86
Summary: Loki wants to investigate the differences between Skyrim and his own home, but his companion might be a far more interesting distraction.





	The Curious Miss Aren

**Author's Note:**

> Psst, this one's my favorite so far!

Loki sat back as Jolinar Aren went about caring for the redheaded warrior who fainted like a blushing girl upon seeing them. She didn't ask for help and Loki didn't offer any, intent as he was on watching first the bubbling spell she used to lift the unconscious man and put him on the couch, and then the soft golden glow she produced around his head. Magic in this realm was different than that within the Nine Realms, he surmised.

Adding that silent observation to his continued investigation on the number of runty frost giants in this realm, Loki sat back in thought. What if a colony of frost giants had settled here and due to the difference of magics between here and Jötunheimr they had shrunk? But that didn't explain why he had been born a runt within the Nine Realms and away from this world's magical influence. Was that a fluke, making the two cases entirely unrelated, or was there something more at play?

Beside the couch, Jolinar Aren stood, stretching, and let out a sigh. "All right, Calder is fine. I think he's just going to sleep for a while. When he smacked his head on the floor, it..."

Loki tuned out the dark elf, recalling from this Calder's arrival something he'd noted as 'important for later'. "Who is Lady Leara?"

Lady Jolinar's mouth popped open in surprise. "This is her house," she said at length. Her eyes darted from him to the man on the couch to the front door, then back. Assessing. Well, then.

"And where is our hostess?" asked Loki.

Jolinar's eyes fixed back on him, eery and aged like the light of a dying red dwarf star. They were not dissimilar, the pair of them, thought the Trickster. Aside from the obvious dilemma concerning svartálfr and jötnar in this realm at the rim of the sky, Lady Jolinar was proficient at magic, both with the natural ice magic of the jötnar and with sorcery. He could feel centuries of power coiled inside her, singing with a light and energy not unlike that of the Bifröst, but foreign and unknown. There was something more about Jolinar Aren, something dark and creeping, but not malevolent.

She was a curious creature, he decided, and left it at that. For the moment.

"She'd be at the palace," the subject of his musings said, drawing him back into the conversation. She shifted about from foot to foot, then settled her arms over the rune stitched robes she wore, drawing her dark leather jacket around her like a shield. "They're planning for the next stage of the civil war."

Ah, yes, this country was at war, as she'd said before they were interrupted. From her rambling explainations, he'd gathered that this country was in a civil war after the death of its monarch during an attempt to secede from a greater empire. Such affairs were always messy, and it explained the dismal attitude and dark atmosphere that hung over this city like a fog.

"She's not likely to return tonight then," Loki stated. Lady Jolinar's only response was a thinning of her lips. It was evident she didn't approve of the war or of this Leara's involvement in it. Instead she tugged at the hem of her jacket, plopping back into a rather cushy armchair next to the low burning fire. With a hiss, she snapped her fingers and sent sparks raining down on the hearth, setting alight a magic born fire that needed neither wood nor oil to burn.

Yes, Jolinar Aren was very curious indeed. This trip would prove interesting.


End file.
